


Second chances

by Houseofmalfoy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: sirius_black, Cousin Incest, F/M, Second War with Voldemort, Sirius Black Fest, Sirius Black Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2020-12-14 10:48:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21014537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Houseofmalfoy/pseuds/Houseofmalfoy
Summary: During the second war, Narcissa Malfoy begins to pass on information to the order. Sirius Black, her childhood best friend and past lover, becomes her point of contact. Includes flashbacks to Sirius and Narcissa before he ran away, and a reference to my headcanon that Narcissa is a trans woman.This was written for the Sirius Black Fest





	Second chances

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so so so much to the people who've read this over for me, both while I was working on it and when it was finished. Most specially @martelldoran on tumblr, thank you so much for all the improvements you've made!

_ December 2 / 1997 _

She was late.

Sirius leaned forward on the table after he stood up and sighed, then sat down again in a weak attempt to give himself something to do.    
_ Why was she late? _

Narcissa knew — probably a lot better than he did — how important it was that out of all things, she bloody well had to be on time. She knew the consequences, she knew it’d mean they’d trust her less. Narcissa was a lot of things but if one thing was true, out of all the things that he thought he knew about her, it was that she wasn’t a fool.

He groaned and reached to drink the glass of firewhiskey he’d poured for her. Sirius was sure there were a million and one perfectly valid reasons she’d be late — given the risks of what she was doing he was forced to admit it was only logical she waited for the right moment to see him — and he knew just as well that he’d argue them all when the order would inevitably question her loyalty.   
It didn’t stop him, however, from cursing her name under his breath when he looked at his watch and realized it had been twenty minutes and she still wasn’t there.

They’d done this three times now. Sirius would sit at a different location each time and send her a message through an enchantment placed on her wedding ring, wait for her to come to him and listen to her new findings on Voldemort’s plans.

It had saved them a lot of trouble already but he imagined it would save her a lot more than it saved them. That was, if their side won this war.

Narcissa did her job well as a double agent. He’d always known her to be an excellent liar, wonderfully talented at playing the people around her to get the information she wanted. 

She was risking a lot each time she came here, but from the little bits he’d gotten from her about her own well-being, Sirius was sure she wouldn’t be risking that much less if she’d let chance decide her fate in this war.

Nevertheless, it’d be for nothing if she didn’t show up soon.

oOo

There was a loud PLOP — much louder than her usual apparation — and Sirius’s wand was pointed at her before he could even recognize his cousin. Narcissa stood before him, robes disheveled more than they ought to be and her hair in a state he — ever the gentleman, if he did say so himself — chose not to put into words. He didn’t ask what had happened. He’d tried that before, she never answered.

“You’re late.”

“You don’t say.”

It never ceased to baffle him that no matter the state she was in, her infuriating pride and arrogance didn’t falter. Sirius refused to be impressed by it — but if he wasn’t so set on that he wouldn’t have had a choice but to admit it was more than a little impressive indeed.

“Sit down,” he instructed with a soft voice, eyeing the thin gash on the side of her neck with concern. The concern wasn’t about Narcissa, he told himself, it just wouldn’t do to lose one of the few valuable spies they had to a cut he hadn’t bothered to take care of.

She obliged silently, though the look she gave him was not any less cold than her earlier words. Sirius took his wand from his wand holster again and whispered the incantation for a healing charm. He only hated her a little bit more than usual when she rolled her eyes.

“Cursed. An ordinary charm won’t do much, Sirius.”

He should’ve known that, apparently. Sirius sighed and conjured a cloth before putting away his wand in defeat. There wasn’t much he could do to dark magic he didn’t recognize, she knew that just as well. Apparently she just hadn’t felt like telling him straight up.

Twat that she was.

“Now then, what’s new?”

Narcissa began to talk and he pretended not to notice it took her more effort than usual. While he took notes, Sirius looked at her carefully every now and then and just hoped it wouldn’t be too obvious.

If he tried hard enough, he could almost see the girl she used to be. The one he’d actually liked when they were both teenagers.

Before they’d been here on opposite yet the same sides of a war neither of them wanted to fight in the first place, unsure of how to act and speak to each other without hurting themselves all over again.

Before everything had gone to shite.

oOo

_ July 17 / 1974 _

_ He never laughed as much at home as he did when he was with her. _

_ Sirius was doubled over, clutching his stomach and roaring with laughter. He’d already forgotten what Narcissa had just said but it didn’t matter anymore either. It might be the whiskey, too. _

_ They were fourteen, hiding out in one of the spare — but still very much decorated — bedrooms of Black manor. A bottle of his father’s whiskey being passed between them while they both grimaced after each sip they took. _

_ It didn’t matter how disgusting it tasted, it made them feel like adults. _

_ Like this, laying on a king sized bed away from the rest of the family, half drunk but happier than he could’ve hoped to be during the holidays, it almost felt as if the world was still at their fingertips. _

_ Like it had been supposed to. _

_ Like it would have been if they both hadn’t — or were planning to — screw up the future their family had so carefully planned out for them.  _

_ It didn’t matter as much that his school robes weren’t slytherin green just as it didn’t seem like that big of a deal she still hadn’t told the rest of the family she’d rather her name be Narcissa forever and always — not just when it was the two of them.  _

_ It was easy to pretend everything was and would be alright if they just kept on pretending they could drink firewhiskey and pretend even harder to not look at each other in ways they ought not to be looking. _

_ Sirius muttered something else and now it was Narcissa’s turn to laugh until her eyes watered, spilling whiskey onto the sheets. It only made them laugh harder. _

_ Nothing mattered at moments like this.  _

_ Everything would be alright. _

oOo

_ December 23 / 1997 _

The next time they arranged a meeting, Narcissa wasn’t late. Mere seconds after he’d send her the message with his location she appeared in front of him — unlike last time, perfectly put together. You’d almost think there wasn’t a war going on.

Sirius didn’t care to hide he was looking her over. He knew her well enough, if she really didn’t want him to she’d not hesitate to tell him so. Narcissa said nothing of it.

“New prisoners arrived today.”

She began to speak in that monotone voice of hers, the one he knew that meant she found whatever she was saying difficult. It was rare to hear her talk otherwise when giving him the accounts of what happened.

Sirius nodded at her with an encouraging look, when really he’d love for her to shut up already. He was getting so tired of hearing of how messed up the world was — as if it hadn’t been proven enough already. “Who are they?” He asked.

“The Lovegood girl, Luna. They took her off the train this week.”

He wasn’t sure who Narcissa was talking about, but if they’d taken her off the Hogwarts’ express she had to be young. Too young.

She explained some more, mentioned some more gruesome things that really Sirius would’ve preferred not to hear at all.

To him, Malfoy Manor always had been a place that looked so unwelcome and so dark that he hadn’t quite believed people could be content living there, but the war had taken it to a whole new level.

Sirius had learned, over the course of the past months, that Voldemort had moved in — whereas in the first war it had been Lestrange Manor he’d been based — and with Voldemort came many of the death eaters who couldn’t as easily return to their own homes now that the war was in full swing and the ministry after them. 

It was a dangerous place — certainly now that Narcissa had reconsidered her position in the war, and not one he liked to think about too deeply. 

They were silent for just a bit, and Narcissa didn’t meet his eyes.

Sirius had never been too comfortable with such tense silences, and the war hadn’t improved it in the slightest. After a few minutes he took the bottle of whiskey he’d previously had standing before him on the table and looked at Narcissa with an apologetic smile and raised eyebrows.

“Reckon you regret marrying Malfoy over me now, eh?”

He was an arse alright, he knew it. She knew it too, never had minded it though. He’d been a jerk and she a twat, it measured up greatly.

Narcissa rolled her eyes, reaching over to take the bottle of whiskey from him. She pursed her lips in disapproval, but then smiled.    
“If I recall correctly, you made that choice for me.”

“You certainly do not _ recall that correctly _ .”

“Are you mocking me?”   
“Just the way you talk.”

She smirked.

Narcissa leaned back in her chair, clearly having no desire to return to Malfoy Manor just yet and he couldn’t very well blame her for that. He spoke again.   
“I would’ve married you alright, you weren’t half bad for a Black.”   
“You made that perfectly clear when you left me at the altar.”

Sirius laughed and took the bottle back from her to fill up his own glass again. Bollocks. “I didn’t leave you at the altar, that’s what you’ve been telling people? I left you with a ring, two months before the wedding. Even offered to take you with me.”

“Always had a flair for dramatics, you know that.”

She did know. She was just like that.

They were silent for a bit and when he interrupted the silence it was a little more serious.

“We wouldn’t be here if you had come with me.”

Since they’d started this double agent thing that’s all he’d been thinking about. What their lives would’ve been like if she’d left with him to the Potters before the cancelled wedding. Even what would’ve happened if they’d married and then left. 

Narcissa never would’ve been caught up in the death eater’s web she was trapped in now — as much her own fault as it was their family’s — and she wouldn’t be risking her life daily for a chance at safety and forgiveness.

He didn’t want to dwell on Azkaban but he couldn’t deny that maybe, just maybe, if there’d been someone in his corner not dead and not convinced of his guilt, someone capable of defending him when he wasn’t able to — maybe that would’ve been avoided too.

Sirius shook his head and downed his whiskey. It wouldn’t do to drown in the what if’s of their lives, now, would it?

Narcissa nodded.

“I’m well aware.”

oOo

_ December 28 / 1976 _

_ Narcissa had been happier than him about it. _

_ He hadn’t picked out the ring on her finger and he’d told her so — as if she hadn’t already known — but it hadn’t mattered. Sirius smiled at her with all the joy he could bring himself to give and that was enough. _

_ “It’s beautiful.” Her voice was shaking a little, obviously nervous through her excitement.  _

_ “Yeah?” _

_ He didn’t know what else to say. _

_ Sirius bit his lip and shrugged, a probably weaker attempt than he originally intended at pretending to be confident in the situation. It wasn’t like both of them didn’t know their engagement was just for the family’s sake: hastily thrown together to try and cover up the scandals of the past year. _

_ They both knew perfectly well there was nothing to this except a last sense of duty to the family’s reputation — and he may not have told her that yet but he was quickly running out of fucks to give about that reputation. At this rate there might not be a wedding. _

_ He didn’t mind marrying her. Narcissa was pretty; she was nice to him and they’d always been friends; she also wasn’t a bad kisser. (Sirius had thought about kissing her since they’d been kids, too, but she didn’t know it had been that long) _

_ But with marrying her he would be agreeing to a life within this family. Within this pureblood world with the rules and the prejudices he hated and as happy and as relieved as Narcissa was looking right now — Sirius wasn’t sure he could go through with it. _

_ He grinned and took her hand, making a show off admiring the ring he’d put on it earlier and kissed it with an exaggerated bow. Narcissa laughed. _

_ If she could just laugh like that for the rest of their lives, he’d be happy. _

_ Sirius squeezed her hand and then he took a step towards her to place a kiss on her lips. He grinned when he felt her response immediately: her free arm curled around his waist and for a few moments she kissed him back — for a few moments he could forget there was anything else to worry about. _

_ For a few moments, the thought that he’d eventually break her heart and ruin part of her future didn’t cross his mind. _

_ She knew. He was sure she knew, or suspected it at least. But if she wasn’t bringing it up, neither would he. Not now. _

_ Not when she was smiling like that, like for the first time in ages, something finally seemed to go their way. _

_ He wouldn’t ruin this for her. _

_ Not yet.  _

oOo

_ December 27 / 1997 _

She was late.

Sirius knew just as well as always that there were a million and then some more reasons she could be late, but now every one of those reasons made him sick with concern. 

Something could have happened. A new capture, a prolonged meeting with Voldemort; one of her shitty friends could’ve been hurt and because she was Narcissa of course she would stay for that.

She could be the one hurt. They could’ve been angry with her for whatever stupidly small reason they needed to hurt someone; she could’ve been caught.

Sirius shook his head wildly to get that thought out of his head but now that it was there, it was impossible not to think about it. He buried his head in his hands and groaned. 

She could’ve been caught. They could’ve found out where she was going. They could’ve tortured her. She could be dead. She could be dead.

Narcissa was only twenty minutes late. Narcissa could be dead.

He shut his eyes tight. 

He could see her, rolling her eyes when she’d inevitably apparate here perfectly alright and laugh off his worries — if he’d even tell her about them. He could see her shaking her head as if he was being silly.

Sirius could also see her showing up even later, bleeding. He could see her being so hurt there was nothing he’d be able to do and now that he imagined it he couldn’t stop seeing it.

What if she didn’t even make it here?

He saw her now in what he vaguely remembered Malfoy Manor’s drawing room to look like, surrounded by the laughing faces he’d seen on wanted posters as she lay on the floor— paler than she was normally, bled out. Lifeless. 

Tears welled up in his eyes before he could tell himself what an idiot he was being. She wouldn’t get herself into that, she’d run before that could happen, she would. She had to. Sirius just had to trust his mind on that.

Thank fuck she apparated into the room not too long after.

So relieved he was that it took a few moments before he realized she was in bad shape. The moment he saw the gash across her cheek and the blood stains in her cloak was the moment she collapsed to her knees before managing to reach the chair he’d pulled back for her previously.

Sirius jumped up and kneeled down next to her, wasting no time pulling his wand and — quick but carefully — opening her cloak and robes to see just how bad the damage was.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. Not the most encouraging thing one could say to a wounded person maybe, but he didn’t care. ‘Fuck’ described his feelings well.

Narcissa’s hand seemed to instinctively grab his robes when she registered his presence, only to fall back down immediately due to a worrying lack of strength. What the hell had happened to her?

The cut on her cheek, although sure to leave a scar later, was the least of Sirius’ worries. There were two more gashes across her torso, bleeding thoroughly through the robes that concealed how much damage was done until he cut them away as fast as he could manage without hurting her more. 

He didn’t have the time to worry about what had happened and who had done this to Narcissa, when he began whispering the healing charms he knew. 

She didn’t say anything anymore, but Sirius was moved when her hand, trembling, reached for his. He didn’t think anything of it; more than likely it was just a need for comfort, which he deemed only understandable considering her wounds.   
This was the first time he’d seen her in this state: so weak, so vulnerable, so obviously hurt it was painful to watch. 

Sirius had seen her emotional before, he’d seen her hurt before, but never like this. 

He could remember the first time he’d healed her; when they were twelve and he’d been so proud of learning his first healing charm that he’d tripped her up the stairs just so he could heal her skinned knee. She’d paid him back for that one the next day.

Sirius remembered the first time she’d come to him crying; something so blatantly not done in their family that it’d taken him by surprise before he’d remembered to be concerned. He couldn’t recall what it was that had made her so upset that time, but he remembered perfectly how shocked he’d been then, seeing her display such emotion. He’d grown used to it, though, over the years.

He shook his head slowly, forcing himself to think of happier things for the sake of keeping a strong front for Narcissa, as far as that went. She was in pain, she was hurt, least he could do was not upset himself with past memories. 

There were happier firsts. 

Their shared first kiss as nervous sixteen year olds came to mind, and Sirius smiled to himself as he continued his work on Cissa’s wounds. Almost done.

With a first kiss came, eventually, another first. Sirius didn’t dwell on that too much, but the memory did bring a grin to his face. Sixteen, maybe she’d been seventeen already, and in no way shape or form experienced, but what fun they’d had. 

Narcissa opened her eyes now, a good sign despite the narrowed look she was giving him, and if she hadn’t been so drained from the bloodloss Sirius was sure he’d been given a sarcastic remark. He knew her. 

“What happened to you?” He asked instead, carefully reaching up to stroke her hair, but not letting go of her hand. “Did they find out? Is it safe to return?”

The thought of Narcissa returning to that place made him sick, but unless she’d been discovered a spy he figured there was a small chance she could stay.

It took her a few more moments to gather the strength to answer him, but he waited as patiently as he could manage.

“They did not.” Narcissa began, quietly. “A low-ranked death eater. Couldn’t tell you his name. Rodolphus took care of him.”

Sirius didn’t know if he ought to be happy or more concerned over that. She hadn’t been found out — that was good, wasn’t it? But it also meant she would go back to that place, and he really, really didn’t want her to anymore.

oOo

_ November 14 / 1976 _

_ They were sixteen. _

_ In five months he would leave the family and never look back, but he didn’t know that yet so it didn’t matter. _

_ In a year and a half she would be married to Lucius Malfoy, but she didn’t know that either so it didn’t matter. _

_ What did matter was that she was sitting close to him. So close Sirius could smell her perfume and it as more than a little intoxicating.  _

_ What did matter was her clear blue eyes that seemed to have a hard time deciding whether it was alright to be looking him in the eye with the intent they had or if his mouth was a safer option. _

_ Sirius had never kissed a girl before. He’d only kissed James once and the only reason they even knew that was because Peter hadn’t been able to stop laughing about it the day after so he didn’t count that either. _

_ Seemed about right that Narcissa would be his first kiss. _

_ He grinned, albeit more nervously than he wanted to look, and she chuckled — giggled really.  _

_ “So.. we’re gonna kiss, yeah?” _

_ It wasn’t supposed to be funny, but nerves had a habit of making everything sound that much more laughable than it really was so they both chuckled.  _

_ “I’d like that, yes.” _

_ Merlin, he always had been jealous of her ability to sound as if she’d kept her cool no matter what. That made one of them. _

_ Thankfully he didn’t have to say much more. Sirius’ grin only broadened when he moved closer to her until their legs touched and he placed his arm on the sofa next to her to support him when he leaned in. _

_ Narcissa kissed him, carefully, and the moment her lips touched his in that gentle manner of hers he couldn’t for the life of him think of a reason they hadn’t done this years earlier. _

_ It was a little clumsy — the way he nearly fell over when his arm gave away due to his nervous movements, and he could feel her smile when they shifted at the same time and accidentally broke the kiss. Sirius laughed. _

_ He couldn’t stop smiling even when she blushed a deep red and he wanted nothing more than to kiss her again right there, the ecstatic feeling taking over his body enough to make him forget all else for a moment or two. _

_ “Care to do that again?” he asked with a challenge in his eyes and Narcissa, despite her blush, nodded eagerly. She reconnected their lips and now — despite the very little skill gained since the last time — he felt more ready. Sirius didn’t move as much, and he tried to pay more attention to his arm this time so he wouldn’t fall again, and far from perfect as he’d much later remember it was, he couldn’t give a rat’s ass. _

_ Narcissa hugged him when they’d — a little awkwardly — stopped kissing and whispered in his ear that she never wanted to kiss anyone else. _

_ It didn’t matter yet that in two months he’d be gone, just as it still didn’t matter that she’d spent a great deal of her life kissing Lucius Malfoy. _

_ “Promise that?” Sirius asked, still unable to stop grinning. That was alright, neither could Narcissa. _

_ “Promise.” _

_ “Yeah, me too.” _

oOo

_ January 17 / 1998 _

This was a little more what he’d expected from an average conversation with Narcissa Malfoy.

Standing on opposite ends of the small room above a muggle pub, they’d damaged the room so badly it might’ve been mistaken for a warzone of it’s own. 

There were cracks in the wall and a muggle painting lay shattered on the floor — amidst two flower pots and what Sirius recognized to be a cellphone someone must’ve left behind. The air was filled with magic that while not visible, had become impossible to miss standing directly in it. It crackled when you moved too quickly — every now and then a blue spark emerged from seemingly nothing, and every curse fired (non-deadly, they were that civil at least) only added to the heaviness of their combined magic.

Narcissa was yelling — screaming — at him, but he was too distracted by everything else happening in the room that he didn’t bother to register her words. Accusations, long-held grudges and painful memories she’d decided to blame him for now — that’s all it was.

His words were filled with much of the same crap.

Sirius could hear himself yelling at her for the mistakes she’d made, caught himself calling her a coward for not having defied the death eaters sooner; for not having left during the first war; for not having changed her ways afterwards. He blamed her for everything he could think of without thinking about it.

Narcissa had tears in her eyes and if he’d taken a moment to stand still he’d have noticed them by himself as well; tears of anger, of frustration that she was just too fucking daft to understand this.

“Maybe if you’d have just COME WITH ME, we wouldn’t be in this fucked up mess right now!” he spat out, and then he said nothing anymore.

The parchment he’d used to take notes of her report lay half burned on the discarded table, he kind of pitied the muggle owners of the pub for having to deal with the broken pots and painting but he wasn’t going to be arsed to clean it up himself. No doubt Narcissa wouldn’t think twice of it before leaving.

He leaped forward to grab the piece of parchment and didn’t notice how Narcissa nearly jumped back — in a bit he’d recall the scared look in her eyes and feel guilty despite everything, but not then. 

“It was your choice to stay,  _ love _ ,” Sirius hissed at her before he opened the door. His old nickname for her, dripping with anger. “Don’t expect me to be happy you’ve finally come crawling back.”

oOo

_ May 26 / 1977 _

_ Five months after their first kiss, they were screaming at each other. _

_ Her bedroom was silenced and Sirius was taking advantage of it by being as loud as he could possibly be, tears of anger in his eyes. _

_ He’d just told her he’d be leaving, even asked her to come with him. Narcissa hadn’t responded in the way he’d hoped she would. Maybe he’d been too naive, thinking that she’d listen to him over their purity obsessed family. Maybe he’d thought too highly of her. _

_ “What the fuck do you think there’s left for you here, Cissy?” he yelled, spitting out his words. _

_ He didn’t understand her. He thought he did, once upon a time, thought he got her; fuck, how wrong he’d been.  _

_ Sirius didn’t give her a chance to answer and instead continued his own tirade. Without realising, however, he had slowly gone from yelling to talking — still with the same poisonous anger, just not as loud — and his brain registered before he did that Narcissa’s expression had shifted from anger and hatred to something he could almost describe as regret, fear.  _

_ “Do you really, for one fucking moment, believe they want you?” He hissed, and he’ll regret saying it later, it’s a low blow and he knows it too well but he can’t be arsed to take his words back now. “They’re putting up with you, Cissy. Marrying you off to me to fix up the two fuck-ups this family has left, and when I’m gone who the fuck else is going to marry you?” _

_ That’s all that fucking mattered to her, wasn’t it? Her useless dreams of a pureblood husband and being his pretty wife, respectable and wealthy and so fucking boring. Didn’t she see it’s worthless? Didn’t she see it’s not for her? _

_ “Shut up.” _

_ Narcissa’s voice was soft, her anger blatant but so carefully slipped into her words that he’d have been impressed at her faked self-control if he’d had the time for it. She’s trembling, too, and for a moment Sirius felt guilty, but he shook it off quickly. Not now.  _

_ “You have no idea what you’re talking about. If you long to mess up your life by running off to the blood-traitors you consider family over your  _ ** _actual _ ** _ family— ” there’s a silent ’over me’ in there that Sirius chose to pretend he didn’t hear, “be my guest, Sirius. I won’t fall for it.” _

_ She didn’t understand, didshe? _

_ “Mess up my life?” He barked out a mean laugh. “I’m not the one tricking herself into believing any of these self-respecting, coward, pureblood wizards would marry her. Your future plans depend on someone being desperate enough for a wife that they’ll settle for you? Good fucking luck with that.” _

_ He had to shut up now. He knew he was lying and he knew he was being crueler than he intended and he could see it in her face that he had gone too far. Sirius stepped back and shook his head. _

_ He’d love to marry her. Anyone would, really. Narcissa was gorgeous, sophisticated and twice as clever as any of the dumb-witted pureblood bimbo’s combined. He knew she’d have no trouble finding a husband, even if their family doubted it, and he could see her be the picture perfect trophy wife she — Godric knows why — so longed to be. _

_ Sirius just didn’t want her to. _

_ “Leave.” Narcissa hissed, rightfully so, and there were tears in her eyes that he just knew aren’t from anger this time around. “Just leave!” she warned, louder this time, he tooka step towards her. _

_ He’d leave. _

_ He’d leave and he’d be burned off the tree and he’d pretend never to look back. _

_ Sirius didn’t know yet they would meet again soon enough. Didn’t know yet that up until the end of the war, they would be meeting, there would be more firsts, more arguments, more wishes that would never be fulfilled. _

_ He didn’t know it yet when he ignored her plea and walked closer to her and he didn’t know it yet when he was crying too. “Fuck off.” Sirius whispered. “I love you.” _

_ “Me too.” _

oOo

_ February 2 / 1998 _

Narcissa was the last person he’d expected to see here.

His first reaction was to pull his wand — half convinced she was an intruder before he realised how dumb that thought was. No one knows what she means to him, no one would take on her appearance to get into the order’s headquarters.

It was her. It got to be her.

Sirius put his wand away.

“What happened?”

Narcissa looked up, nearly surprised and so deadly pale — had she looked like that before? She likely had, but it seemed worse when he didn’t immediately associate her with the war. Looking sickly was to be expected when passing on information to their side, Sirius didn’t want to think it normal too when she was here; as illogical as that thought was.

What followed was a stumbling explanation that he didn’t quite follow — they’d have time enough to go through it properly later — filled with mentions of lies and more lies and Rodolphus Lestrange and her deranged sister and many, many tears. He was sure she’d described too the reason the corner of her mouth was bleeding, but he must’ve missed it.

“It’s okay,” Sirius breathed out the moment he’d closed the distance between them and held her in his arms — protectively, warm. “You’re okay, you’re here now.”

She was out. She was away from that place and that side of the war and she would be okay, she’s got to be okay. Sirius smiled, relieved, when Narcissa wrapped her arms around him tightly, clinging onto him for comfort. 

Eventually she stopped crying, for the time being.

“I’ve got you, love,” Sirius whispered, kissing her forehead gently. “You’ll be just fine, you’ll see.”

Up close, he saw all too clearly the desperation, the fear, behind the tears still stuck in her eyes, and his heart ached over it. “I know,” Narcissa said, so quietly he had trouble hearing her, and her arms moves to lay around his shoulders, hesitatingly. “I don’t want to talk about it, not now.”

“Of course.”

He didn’t know for sure who else was in Grimmauld’s place at the moment, but most days he was here alone with Buckbeak so it didn’t really matter, either. Someone must’ve brought her here, though. Sirius asked about it.

“Kingsley. He cleared me, you’ll be handed my wand in a bit, and let me see Draco. Left as soon as we arrived here, it’s not as if the wards will allow me to leave.”

Sirius nodded. The thought crossed his mind that, really, the Order should’ve told him about this beforehand; but they had been disorganized lately, the war was taking a strain on them all and though they were winning, for then, organization wasn’t a main priority.

“Of course… ” He answered, gently leading her into the kitchen. “Sit down, okay? Kreacher can make us some tea.”

oOo

They talked for what felt like ages. Narcissa cried again, at some point, and though he would deny it if anyone asked, so did he. It was just so awfully unfair, wasn’t it?

Over the course of the conversation, something shifted.

Gazes lingered, hands brushed together and stayed there, and when eventually Sirius met her eyes he raised his eyebrows for just a moment and then grinned.

She didn’t want to discuss the war, didn’t want to think about the war, and he couldn’t blame her. Neither did he. There were other things he could think of to help her.

“Shall I show you around?”

Bullshit, she’d visited this place often enough when they were children, she knew her way. Narcissa agreed, though, and got up from her chair.  _ He knew it _ .

She knew her way, and that meant she noticed where he was leading her immediately, and she didn’t stop him and didn’t comment so it was alright.

Narcissa looked around his room with a shake of her head, smiling for the first time since she’d arrived. “What?” He asked, grinning. “I got Kreacher to fix it up, at least.”

Most of the posters he’d put up as a teenager were gone, the room was tidier than Sirius recalled it being when he lived here before too, but he couldn’t argue with her when she shook her head, still smiling. “It’s tidied up alright, it still screams your name. Blatantly.”

“You say it like that’s a bad thing, Cissa.”

“It’s not.”

oOo

She tasted like tears when she kissed him.

Narcissa wasn’t crying anymore but the tears still clung to her face and there were still droplets of blood on her lips before his mouth cleaned them off for her; she held his shoulders and for a moment he grinned victoriously before answering her kiss with a passion he’d forgotten he had.

Sirius didn’t know how long exactly it had been since he’d kissed her — his memories from before Azkaban so warped and so long ago he wasn’t sure at all when they’d last shared a kiss — but he was sure that it had been more than long enough to excuse the desire that filled him now.

It had been too long since he’d held her in his arms and felt her fingers wind themselves in his hair; too long since she’d last leaned into his body as if she’d fall to the ground if they broke too far apart; too long since he’d simply felt her against him and known that it wasn’t a dream, wasn’t a fantasy. 

It had been too long.

Narcissa’s hands, buried in his hair, pulled it a little every time she moved — whether she meant to or not he didn’t know. It didn’t matter either because he knew he liked it. 

Her breath hitched in her throat and he grinned, forcefully but with care moving her through the room until she was pressed against the wall. She tilted her head back with a smirk and for a moment her eyes flashed dangerously at him before he kissed her for a second time.

There was the taste of blood in his mouth when she bit his lip and it drew a moan from him. 

For a brief moment the thought crossed his mind that he should be quiet — that they shouldn’t be kissing like this, should break it off now before someone noticed — but just as sudden as he’d thought of it he’d thrown the concern away.

He didn’t care.

It’d been too long, they’d been apart for so long and they’d been in danger for so long and now that they were here and as safe as they could be during war Sirius didn’t care.   
He could do this now.

He could tighten his grip on her hips and he could bite and suck in her neck until she was whimpering and would be bruised later because if all she had to worry about was people seeing her bite marks that would be nothing compared to everything before. 

They could do this now.

He planned to take full advantage.

oOo

_ February 3 / 1998 _

He held Narcissa tightly the next morning, as if letting go of her for even the briefest moment would mean losing her all over again. The thought of that happening felt unbearable.

She shifted in his arms and Sirius lifted himself up to kiss her cheek with a smile that quickly turned to a worried frown when he noticed her panic stricken face. 

Narcissa’s breath grew more rapid, nearly beginning to hyperventilate, and when she rolled on her back to look at him her eyes were filled with dread. Sirius shook his head slowly and hugged her tighter.

“I can’t — Merlin- what did I do?” Narcissa began, quietly and so fast he could scarcely keep up as tears were beginning to form behind her eyes. “What was I thinking? How did- I should get back..”

At that, Sirius kissed her cheek and shook his head again. “No.” He told her, softly but in a tone that was clearly not meant to be contradicted. “You’re here. You’re safe. You won’t have to go back, Cissy.”

“But— the war.. the Dark Lord..” She tried again, her voice growing weaker but the fear sounding through it broke his heart all the same. Narcissa turned around to bury her head in his chest, and instinctively he pulled the covers over her in a protective manner.

Sirius pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and another, as his arms tightened around her.

The war wasn’t over yet; they weren’t safe yet, not truly, but this was close enough for now. She was out of that side, finally, and when the war was won — as he had to believe it would be — they would be alright. Together.

“It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter anymore. You're here now. You’re here with me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't forget to leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed this fic!


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